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((Daniel 'Danny' Brooks continued from I Say You Kill Your Heroes And Fly, Fly, Baby Don't Cry.))

Danny did not have a plan.

That had been true for most of his life, it just hadn't been a problem until now. College plans? Eh, he'd wing it. Plans to woo that girl who he was into? Eh, he'd wing it. Plans to escape the last girl he'd dated? Eh, he'd wing it. All the more complicated stuff, he just kind of… ignored until it went away. It had always worked well for him.

Okay, it worked well at first and then it sometimes exploded. Sometimes it was better to get things over with. Like with Fiyori. He'd been forced to confront her and it'd gone okay. Better than hiding from her.

But you didn't just 'get over' Survival of the Fittest.

The point was he had no plan. He just ran along. He didn't find Irene. She was gone before he got anywhere beyond the cove. He thought about returning to Jeremy, but didn't. That would involve thinking more about his situation.

And whenever he considered what he should do next, his mind just… hit a block. It just went 'no, I'm not doing this.'

So he ran, and when he got tired he walked. And then he came across the asylum.

Now, really. How often did one see an abandoned asylum? If this had been any other situation, Danny would have been hyped to explore it. Lobotomy shit? That's cool. Creepy, but cool to look at.

But not so fun once he was in there. Each door could hide some crazed person with a gun. Danny still carried the portable CD player underneath his arm. Walking down what seemed like hallways of doors upon doors, sometimes with creepy shit behind them. Sometimes he heard noises within. He thought maybe he heard voices a couple of times. At least once, he thought he heard a crash and someone swearing. But he didn't want to go look. At the same time he didn't want to be alone.

He already wanted to leave the asylum, but he'd forgotten the way out. It all just looked the same to him. He felt too closed in and too open at the same time. All it would take is someone walking down one of these hallways. If they had a shotgun like Irene they wouldn't even really have to aim.

Nope. Nope. Not good.

Danny's breathing came to a halt while contemplating it. But again, his brain just went 'no' and shoved these considerations away. Still there. Just… still. Not enough to think of a solution to them. He just… he just…

The next door was one into a storage closet, and… he didn't know what he was thinking. That he could lock everyone out and just… wait the game out in a closet?

Stupid. But fuck it.

Danny pulled open the door, saw enough of a glimpse of the dark room inside to tell that it was, at least, too big for just a plain closet. Then he shut the door, throwing the room into darkness again, and pressed his forehead against the door.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, smacking his head lightly against the door as if the resulting clunk would somehow inspire him with a genius plan that would fix everything.
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Hideaway · Storage Closet